The Twelve Kingdoms
by KingAlanI
Summary: 24 Westeros and Essos youth switch places with the 24 tributes to the 74th Hunger Games. By Alan Gilfoy in the worlds of Suzanne Collins and George R.R. Martin. Begins in the same timeframe as the first book of each series. Written in assorted limited third-person POV's.
1. Katniss I

A minute elapsed and then a gong sounded. Four-and-twenty tributes raced towards a mountain of supplies they'd use to kill one another. This is how it had been for the past three-and-seventy summers, save for one year when the macabre procedure was carried out with twice as many youths. Details aside, these Games were a prime way The Capitol Of Panem tortured the two-and-ten districts under the city's thrall.

Yet this year turned out to be even less normal than four-and-twenty summers ago. The other three-and-twenty sent into the arena with Katniss Everdeen were still there, and so were the piles of supplies before them, but their surroundings had shimmered and disappeared. Their arena had been replaced with something alien instead of the she had found relatively familiar. The landscape was one of plain rolling hills instead of the wooded valleys at the edge of her territory back home. The people around her were mostly strangers, one girl and one boy from each district. She knew the lad from her land – Peeta Mellark, a baker's son, who saved her life with two loaves of bread one time when she was on the brink of starvation. She was fast getting to know the girl of the eleventh district – Rue Clayton was a darker version of Primrose Everdeen, Katniss' very slightly built younger sister. Katniss loved 'Prim' so dearly that she had taken her place in this cruel contest.

.

_Was it the G__amemakers' doing?_ she wondered. No, it couldn't be. There was a road with men on horseback, and the Gamemakers never put other people in the arena with the tributes. There was no point in fighting each other until this was figured out. The riders were just as confused. The four-and-twenty youths before them were clearly not of Westeros or anywhere else in the Known World.

.

Cato Adams, the tall and strong boy from the second district, ran to the pile of supplies to pick up a sword. Marvel Hoffman, his similar counterpart from the first district, hefted a spear. _Marvel may be a few coals short of a full mine cart, but he still understood that a lo__ng weapon would help fight __men on horses, _Katniss mused to herself. It was no matter to her. Her father had taught her to be an expert archer amongst many other things, and a silver bow and quiver called to her. As she picked up the bow and slung the quiver over her back, she noticed that most of the others had also retrieved weapons.

.

One of the mounted men drew his sword and called out "Who goes there?" _Whoever these people were, they__spoke__ English as well as the silent language of bared steel_, Katniss mused. "I think none of us want to have to use these," the horseman continued.

"I don't know where we are, but I know who I am. Cato Adams," the brash young man said, taking it upon himself to speak for the whole group. _Apparently these foreign warrior youth understand the Common Tongue as well as the principle of discretion._ "Agreed," he continued.

"Jory Cassel," the rider said to identify himself. He reached back across his body to put his sword back in his scabbard. Cato's blade had no sheath, but he just as surely moved it to a nonthreatening position. Katniss took the nocked arrow back off the bowstring and put it back in the quiver; the other two-and-twenty also rested their weapons. Jory and his comrades dismounted, to approach the group at a range that wouldn't necessitate shouting.

"Eddard Stark's captain of the guards," Jory elaborated. "These are the guardsmen I was patrolling with," he said while gesturing to the men behind him. They all wore dark armor. Even the utilitarian tribute uniforms worn by Katniss and the rest seemed flashy by comparison.

"You seem like a knight," said the girl from the third district.

"Not exactly. We northmen generally don't take to orders of knighthood, but we compare quite well to those southron fighters nevertheless," Jory answered. "We're near my lord's castle, Winterfell, the greatest fortress in the north, one of the seven united kingdoms on our continent of Westeros."

Cato didn't give her name, explaining "Most of us don't know each other. We were thrown together by circumstance." _He didn't seem like the kind of boy to understate_, Katniss thought. "Glimmer Shinesmith, my girl," he said while pointing to the young woman in question. No wonder he was fascinated by her – the tall blonde was sexy even in these simple clothes, let alone the sheer gown she had worn to amuse the audience. _Do they want fighters or models?_, Katniss wondered. She had found a surprising friend in her stylist Cinna, but she was not the kind of girl who liked being poked and prodded. "Clove Hawkins, an old friend who wishes she was my girl," Cato continued.

The short black-haired girl scowled and fidgeted with a knife while Jory and the rest of the guards laughed at the jape. "Handsome man like you? No wonder the wenches are all over ya!" one of the guards said boisterously.

"I'm Peeta Mellark," said the pale-skinned blonde next to Katniss, by way of introducing himself. "That's Katniss Everdeen – I'm not sure if she's my girl or not," he japed. Peeta had loved Katniss since they were young, but didn't confess it until put in front of the Capitol audience. It was the last kind of thing Katniss thought about, so she took it for quite a shock.

.

"This castle of yours, is it far?" Katniss asked of one of the guards.

"Not at all. We don't get many travelers here, so all of the household likely would want to see you. "Luwin is a wise old man at our castle. He should be especially interested in your arrival and might have ideas as to what brought you here."

"I should be quite interested to learn from him," said Nathan Wozniak, the boy from the third district.

The four-and-twenty gathered all the supplies they could from the pile – more weapons, but also food and other supplies. They walked behind the men on horses for the short trip back to Winterfell.

.

The new arrivals to this land were stunned by the sight of the massive stone walls. "We found four-and-twenty foreign travelers," Jory called out to the comrade working the gate.

"We lost Robb," he called back as he raised the iron grid that formed a barrier at the entrance. "Lord Stark's eldest son is nowhere to be seen."

They rode and walked through the now-open passageway, and a crowd gathered around. Even worrying about the heir's disappearance, the residents of Winterfell were still fascinated by the odd new arrivals. Eddard Stark himself was present amongst the crowd gathering in the castle courtyard. He was a somber man even without kin to worry about. _Ironically, this rich family has the same gray eyes as The Seam, my especially poor part of an especially poor district_, Katniss observed. "Perhaps my Robb safely ended up in the place these travelers came from," the lord suggested.

"There are many mysteries here," observed a bald man with a light gray beard and huge dark gray robes.

"Is he this Luwin man we've heard of?" Nathan guessed.

"Yes," Eddard answered. "I suppose these travelers could use some food after their journey. Gage, fetch them bread and salt," he said to a man evidently on his kitchen staff. Eddard was nothing if not an extremely honorable man, and he had invoked an ancient sacred custom beyond merely offering a meal. As the lord explained, "We call it guest right. When a host and his guests share food, it is just that they do not harm each other during the stay. Welcome to Winterfell."


	2. Robb I

A small crowd of youths looked around to see a forest of alien trees – not weirwoods or soldier pines or anything else they may be used to. The four-and-twenty young adults stood on a large round patch of bare ground, a hole in a sea of grass. There were some smaller holes in a circle around the one that currently held them. _Something is unnatural about this place, not merely foreign_, thought Robb Stark, a son of Lord Eddard Stark and his wife Catelyn Tully.

Ironically, two faces familiar to each other were reunited in this strange land – Robb saw his half-brother Jon Snow, also Eddard's son, but the identity of Jon's mother was known only to her and Eddard.

Robb was Eddard's firstborn son and thus heir – by right of birth he would have become one of the most powerful men in the Seven Kingdoms. Yet he wasn't in the Seven Kingdoms any more. His next-oldest brother was now heir to Winterfell. _Bran, winter is coming. Fortunately, Father i__s only three-and-thirty_, Robb thought to himself.

Eddard was himself a second son. It was unlikely for the second son of a second son to inherit, but odder things had happened in the realm. The fifth King Aegon had been the fourth son of a fourth son. He had been king only a few decades ago, followed by his son the second Jaehaerys and grandson the second Aerys. Insanity ran in the Targaryen family, and the second Aerys had been particularly afflicted. He had been deposed by the current king, the first Robert. Eddard, an old friend of the new king, was an invaluable ally in that war. He got married in the middle of the war and returned home victorious and to a son – Robb. _Luwin would be pleased that I remembered those lessons_, Robb mused to himself.

It was impossible for a bastard to inherit. When Jon was growing up at Winterfell alongside Robb and the other children, he was constantly told that he could never have the castle himself. He had joined the Night's Watch, a military order which guarded the wall securing the country's northern border. Westerosi men without a place often found one there, and Jon had taken that route. "Robb!" he called out. The two moved closer, and Jon added "I thought I'd see you again upon returning to Winterfell, but Robb, we aren't in Winterfell anymore."

"Who's that with you, Jon?" Robb asked. Both were clad in the thick all-black uniforms emblematic of the Night's Watch. _The air in this strange place felt like a moderate summer day_, Robb mused, _but Jon and his friend must be __sweltering under those wool cloaks._ Sure enough, the two began to loosen the layers of thick fabric.

"Samwell Tarly," the very fat boy answered nervously. "So you're one of Jon's blood brothers – I'm one of his sworn brothers."

"We have said the vows," Jon explained. "However, we were sent away from our post and are nowhere near a wall to watch," he said, echoing their situation and parts of those vows. "Uncle Benjen is still lost beyond the Wall." Jon had wished to follow his example. Their father's brother was a man of the Watch, rising through the ranks as befit his skill instead of his birth status. Benjen was a legitimate child, but only a thirdborn son. Castoffs of noble families were elites amongst the black brothers. Not much of Westeros felt service on the Wall was honorable anymore. Much of the force's dwindling strength consisted of criminals looking to redeem themselves and escape the standard punishments for their actions.

Grey Wind and Ghost also recognized each other. The Stark children had recently found a litter of six direwolf pups around the body of their recently deceased mother, adopting one each. The beast was the symbol of the Stark family, a cold weather creature even by the standards of the Westerosi north. Robb and Jon's animals had traveled with them.

There was one other creature present – a horse with a silvery coat rode by a pale slight blonde girl. Three other girls walked alongside her. One was similarly pale, but with blue eyes instead of the mounted girl's purple orbs. The other two had much darker skin and hair, one of them being bigger than the other. _They were all beautiful, _Robb thought. He hadn't thought about girls much while learning how to fill his father's role.

One of the other young men present did not keep such thoughts to himself. "Seven hells," he swore loudly. Not a Stark voice, delivering an epithet of the old gods, but a southron accent giving one related to the new. "That wench has a nice pair of teats!" he said while gesturing towards the thick dark companion.

Jon reached for his sword, a long blade with a carved gem-studded wolf's head capping the hilt. "That was uncalled for, Prince Joffrey," he announced loudly. Fear of the unfamiliar environment plus the thought of an unsheathed blade got the spoiled brat to shut up.

The young woman atop the horse spoke with a regal bearing. "It seems the Lannister boy has been sufficiently chastised. Thank you, Stark," she said. Jon may look like a Stark, which is where she probably got the idea, but since his parents were not married Starks, he was saddled with the Snow name common to Northern bastards. Jon did not correct her, since he had always dreamed of being called a Stark. "It appears your friend is of House Tully," she said, speaking of Robb.

"That is my mother's house, but while I look like them, I act like my father, a Stark, this is my brother," Robb responded.

Daenerys turned to Jon again and said "I stand corrected". Then she looked at Samwell and japed "It appears your other friend is of House Tubby".

"Tarly," another young woman called out. "It's Tarly."

Samwell lightened up at the sound of the voice. "Talla!" he shouted.

"Father is a skilled man, but not a very nice one at all. You always were my favorite brother, Sam."

"I have found a brother on the Wall though," Samwell answered cheerfully. "And it turns out you both made this journey with me."

A large metal bird, probably some sort of war contraption, hit the ground near the group. One man stepped out in black-and-brown armor. "General Oliver Travers, I'm in charge here, who's in charge of you guys?" he loudly announced. _The strange people in this strange place speak Common at least_, Robb mused to himself.

Robb spoke up. "We don't all know each other, ser, but this is my brother Jon, his friend Samwell, and his sister Talla."

"I am Daenerys," another confident young leader's voice called out. "These are my handmaidens Jhiqui, Irri and Doreah."

The other sixteen did not know each other.

"Welcome to the land of Panem. We'll take you back to our Capitol for now. Get in," the officer said in a clipped voice while gesturing to the metal vessel. He sensed the hesitation. "It's a metal ship that sails the air instead of the sea," he said while grasping for an analogy. "Boys, bring your dogs. Girl, bring your horse," he added.


	3. Daenerys I

Daenerys Targaryen sat down in the metal bird and gazed outwards, amazed by the view. _This must be how my ancestors felt as they rode dragons_, she thought. She had received three dragon eggs as a gift for her wedding to the Dothraki warlord Khal Drogo. The eggs came from Illyrio Mopatis, a corpulent businessman who had arranged the marriage. The horse she came here with was a gift from Drogo himself, a good sign in the horse-obsessed Dothraki culture. She was no mere girl like the soldier's dispassionate instruction indicated, but the word reminded her of her all too quickly vanished youth.

The plan was for Drogo's army to put Daenerys' brother Viserys in his rightful place as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. There had not been a King Viserys in over a hundred years – their seven-greats grandfather was the first, their five-greats grandfather the second, this one the third. He was the rightful heir to their father Aerys II, not the usurper Robert. Robert had killed their brother Rhaegar and then had Rhaegar's children killed.

"Twenty four of our people disappeared from near the spot where you appeared. It seems obvious that the two incidents are related, although we don't yet have any idea how," an officer explained. "They were to engage in a fight to the death as punishment for rebellion, a fate which does not apply to you, at least not yet."

Her servants had fast become friends, and at least they had traveled with her. Doreah was a slight pale blond like her, but with the blue eyes typical of the city of Lys rather than the purple eyes typical of House Targaryen. She was rescued from a brothel, or perhaps purchased for Illyrio and Viserys themselves, and had taught Daenerys all sorts of interesting things to do in the bedchamber. Irri and Jhiqui, both Dothraki themselves, had introduced Daenerys to the ways of the strange society. Viserys could have used those lessons more than Doreah's body. He had a lack of understanding for the people he was counting on, and that was going to cause trouble. Irri taught horseback riding, Jhiqui the Dothraki language.

The marriage was the first time she had been away from Viserys, who could be cruelly temperamental at times. It was the result of someone else's political machinations, but had quickly grown to genuinely love Drogo, and began to miss him while in this strange place. The word _khaleesi_, queen to his king, rolled confidently off her lips even now. Daenerys patted her belly and spoke to Jhiqui. "I miss him already, especially since he's responsible for this," the queen said of her king and their prince.

One young woman had different thoughts. "Praise the Seven!" she shouted. "At least I am rid of him!"

"Rid of who?" Daenerys asked. "I was exiled from Westeros before being exiled here, so I have no idea, and I don't recognize your House."

"Erenford – and Frey. Married off to my liege lord, a disgusting old man old enough to be my great-grandfather. It was his ninetieth name day, me barely past my sixteenth. I still shiver when I think of him climbing all over me." Drogo was Daenerys' sun-and-stars, a Dothraki term for true love stemming from their belief that the sun god was married to the moon goddess. However, it could have been very different for her, like the situation this Lady Joyeuse found herself in. There was another difference. "Walder Frey has dozens of children, they say he is the only lord in the Seven Kingdoms that can field an army out of his breeches, but fortunately he has not left me with child."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm glad for my own luck though," Daenerys answered simply.

"Here, we'd say the odds were in your favor," the head soldier chimed in. "This country is divided into twelve districts. Girl, your two dark servants remind me of the people in our eleventh district, so I'll suggest that your group be sent there." Then he turned from Daenerys to Joyeuse. "With all this talk of seven, why not send you to the seventh one?" he said to Lady Frey in a tone of voice that didn't truly indicate a question.

The Dothraki avoided the ocean because horses wouldn't drink the water. This might prove to be a problem in getting Drogo's horde to cross the narrow sea between their homeland and Westeros. So the ship analogy hadn't exactly worked with the Dothraki girls, but they went ahead and boarded the vessel. As Jhiqui said, "We shall follow the Khaleesi anywhere."

Jhiqui was the one the Lannister boy had taunted. "Thank you for showing her common courtesy. Your sword said what my words were about to," Daenerys said to Jon.

"You're welcome," he responded. "And you're welcome to call me Jon Stark any time you want, although it's really Jon Snow."

"Might as well stick with 'Stark'. Our leader is a 'Snow', and he's not the kind of man you want to cross, even with something as simple as a name," one of the soldiers explained.

When the interjection passed, Daenerys spoke alone to Robb. "I didn't like being called 'girl', and I suppose you didn't like those creatures being called 'dogs' either. I may be blood of the dragon, but I still know what a direwolf looks like."

"Thank you. I must say you do act like a queen, and I rather like that," Robb said.

"Too bad I already have a king," Daenerys said, laughing off the compliment.

"A queen must have a king. It is known," Irri chimed in, translating the Dothraki saying into the Common Tongue of Westeros for Robb's benefit.

"Yes, Irri, and this lordling will find his lady soon enough," Daenerys added.

The craft landed and the four-and-twenty youths from Westeros and Essos stepped out into the strange world. A massive crowd was interested in the strange foreigners, but more of Travers' soldiers gave the craft and its occupants plenty of room. They were escorted to Leader Snow's palace. It wasn't far away, so the journey was a short walk. They passed through a city beyond the wildest dreams of even the rich foreigners, let alone the poor ones.

A long white beard was a sign of a distinguished old man here as there. His house had a main room with a long table where the master sat at the head, not a foreign concept either. "I am Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem. Welcome to our Capitol," he announced.

Joffrey spoke up. "Wow, I'm from the capital city of our land, and your city makes mine look like a commoners' village by comparison."

"My city indeed. I like you. You can stay here. However, I will spread out the rest of you," Snow instructed. He approved General Travers' plans for sending Joyeuse to the seventh district and Daenerys' group to the eleventh. Robb's group of five was not broken up either, being sent to the twelfth. One of the commoner boys was a blacksmith, sent to a metalworking factory in District Two. That place was also known for its stonework, so a girl Mya joined him simply because her last name was Stone. _A bastard from the southeastern mountains_, Daenerys recognized of the girl's name. The other eleven smallfolk were spread out over the other eight districts.

"We'll send you there on trains," he finished. "A really fast carriage on a special road," he hastily explained. Even the educated in the group of four-and-twenty were rendered quietly fascinated by this world's advanced technology.

The four-and-twenty were separated now, on their way to three-and-ten different destinations. Eleven was one of the furthest away, but it didn't seem to matter much considering how far they had already come and how fast this 'train' was in getting them there. They were greeted by the local lord. "I understand that you're all about the same age. Who's your friend, the light one?" Mayor Harvest Blade asked.

"Doreah," Daenerys answered for her servant. "They say she is quite skilled in the art of appealing to men."

"Already, at her age? By our law, fourteen year olds may only have sex with those their own age. I must warn you that I take all of this nation's laws very seriously."

A boy stepped forward. "Father, may I remind you that I am fourteen?" He then turned to Doreah and licked his lips.

"That is the son I named after myself, and what he says is true," the mayor said stiffly.

"Well, hello, Harvest Blade, Second Of His Name," Doreah purred. They quickly retreated to his quarters in the mayor's house.

One of the local commoner families was also present; their oldest, a girl, was amongst the 24 that disappeared when this 24 appeared. "I hear that you are already with child, and yet you look like you are still a child yourself," said Willow Clayton, the mother.

"I found out on my fourteenth nameday," Daenerys answered.

"I suppose that is what they call 'birthdays' where you are from." The Clayton matriarch was correct. "I was between my eighteenth and nineteenth when I carried my first, and I thought _that_ was early."

"It wasn't my idea. The marriage was arranged for political reasons, to a man slightly more than twice my age."

Mrs. Clayton was aghast. "This place may be a hellhole, yet we are still free to marry for love."

Her husband Rock chimed in. "I am only two years older than my lovely bride."

"I was lucky, as I quickly grew to truly love him," Daenerys said with evident satisfaction.

"You're going to be quickly growing, alright," their firstborn son Johnny joked.

"That's Johnny, the second of our six. We miss Rue, the first, but this saves her from certain death."

Daenerys talked with her servants and friends in private. "Well, we'd still be eligible for their Games next year, if we are still here next year."

Jhiqui confidently announced "_Khaleesi_, I would gladly take your place if it comes to that, for both you and the _khalakka_".

Irri cut in with "Well, Jhiqui beat me to it, so I shall extend the same honor to Doreah if the need arises."


	4. Robb II

**A/N**

Robb Stark Week on tumblr (robbstarkweek tumblr com, tumblr com tagged robb+stark+week) inspired me to hurry up and return to my Robb fics.

**Chapter**

"Now that we're in this strange new land, we must make peace with that and prepare to live out the rest of our lives here," Robb announced.

"I suppose so," Jon agreed. "However, we shan't forget our past. The good parts of it at least. It seems they don't care whether someone's a bastard, and I'd be glad to forget that. I already very much like the sound of 'Jon Stark'."

"You're as much a Stark as I am in both blood and deed," Robb agreed.

"Well, now I don't have to worry about fathering a bastard because it doesn't matter, I'll have to see what this 'wenching' thing is all about," Jon continued

"Jon," Samwell said awkwardly. "We … we … said the words," he added anxiously.

"That we did," Jon admitted, referring to the Night's Watch oath in part prohibiting a wife or children. "Mayhaps it wouldn't be a problem while we're away from home, but it would be a concern if we were to go back to Westeros."

"Well, Daenerys has a point, I'll find a worthy lady soon enough," Robb added. "Perhaps one of these pretty girls, perhaps not," Robb said, gesturing to the other two passengers in their technically marvelous wheelhouse, a train car Robb thought it was called. The girls were only slightly younger than the boys in the car. Talla Tarly was Samwell's sister, a thinner female version of her brother, and considering Sam's demeanor, the 'but female' part didn't indicate as much of a difference as it did with most boys. The Stark boys were familiar with that – their sister Arya took after them and their father moreso than their mother or Sansa, their other sister. Yet it was Sansa's friend who was here with them. Jeyne Poole was the daughter of Vayon Poole, one of the key Stark servants back in Winterfell. Surely some boy would fall for Jeyne's pretty dark hair and brown eyes, if not Robb.

They were very new to Panem, but had quickly learned that people here usually marry for love, even scions of the richest families. If the people in the big city were any indication, boys not acting like usual boys and girls not acting like regular girls were also relatively acceptable here. In some ways, Robb thought it was a great loss to not live atop the crowd, in some ways a tantalizing opportunity. His father had always respected the smallfolk and lesser nobility, much more so than many lords in Westeros, and Robb had taken after that, but he could learn much and more from actually living amongst commoners.

The train had some machine that blew cold air over the passengers. _A marvelous taste of __autumn in the middle of summer, _Robb thought. Yet even considering the device, Jon and Sam had quickly felt a need to remove their heavy dark wool.

The servants in red had been completely silent throughout the journey. The soldiers, in white instead of the brown and black they first saw, had been quiet except for curt necessary communication. The train made some stops to drop off the other travelers, and eventually it came to the end of their line.

They drew a crowd here as well as in the big city. Sam took a look at the hundreds of people approaching them. Bones showed on many of them, especially those with olive-colored skin. Even the ones with skin as pale as Sam's were nowhere near as large as him or even the other four travelers. "They look hungry," Sam announced, his own belly rumbling.

Jon seemed to agree. "For once, now might be a good time to be craven," Jon told Sam. "You weigh twenty stone, and some of the people here are literally starving to death," Jon clarified. _It could well be the fate of people in Westeros if not enough food was put away for winter_, Jon mused.

As such, Jon led the five out into crowd. Sam wasn't quite in the back – Robb was. Grey Wind and Ghost could be liable to cause a panic, or the crowd would panic at the sight of the direwolves, and it took Stark blood to control the beasts. Jon with his hand on a weapon also seemed to send a universal signal. The soldiers on the train had stayed on it. There were some soldiers at the destination, but the number and their demeanor didn't seem too threatening.

One of the tall pale men stepped forward. He was likely the local lord or someone else of importance. "From myself, Mayor Miles Undersee, and the other people of District Twelve, welcome, honored guests." He was standing with someone who appeared to be his daughter. "Margaret, but everyone calls me Madge," the well dressed young woman spoke up politely. It might be a good idea for Talla and Jeyne to make her acquaintance, or perhaps for Robb to make her _acquaintance_. They may end up living something like commoners here, but they still hadn't forgotten the dynamics of power. "I am sorry my wife cannot be here, she's rather tired and sick. I wish she could have greeted you, or left her bed at all, really." It was clear how sad he was when he talked of her.

Many of the crowd had peeled away to head back to their homes, figuring they could see more of the strangers later, but a few dozen people remained. One of the tall darker men was clearly not an official. "Gale Hawthorne," he announced, sticking his hand out and pointing the arm down. He had nearly a foot on even Robb and Jon, hardly short boys. They had grown, but Gale's brothers and sister hadn't. One of the brothers was holding hands with a pale and pretty girl. "Welcome to District Twelve. It sure ain't much, but it's home, and now it's your home too."

"Mayhaps it is," Jon agreed.

"I suppose your home is now Katniss'. I'm deep friends with her, that's her sister Primrose with my brother Rory over there," Gale answered.

"They look so cute together!" Talla interrupted.

"That they do," Gale answered offhandedly before continuing his conversation with Jon. "Katniss she disappeared at the same time you appeared," Gale continued.

"May she like Castle Winterfell. I usually did." Robb figured his bastard half-brother had found a new home at Castle Black, the main fortress of the Night's Watch, but that Winterfell would always be a part of him.

"Now which one were you again?" Gale admitted.

"Jon _Stark_, son of Eddard," he introduced himself with relish.

"Son of Thomas, but he's in the ground now. So is Katniss' and Primrose's father Jacob." Gale added angrily. "Their mother Ingrid hadn't gotten over it, and I can't say I blame her. Neither has my mother Hazelle, but she had to be strong for her then-newborn daughter Posy." Considering that, and looking at the little girl, the deaths must've been only a few years ago.

"Besides, cute baby made things a little less sad. Victor here, but everyone calls me Vick," Gale's other brother chimed in.

Jon knew he was about to say something inflammatory, so he leaned towards the new friend Gale to whisper. "Eddard Stark is first and foremost an honorable man, and raised his sons accordingly, and I fail to see the honor in letting one's smallfolk starve or be slaughtered."

"I like you," Gale agreed. "You can stay here with me and help me cause all sorts of trouble."


	5. Rue I

The food in this strange new world was simple, but it was hearty and she didn't have to steal it from people willing to whip or kill her. Something similar could be said of the hard but warm bedrooms. Rue Clayton liked that. These Starks were the first rich people to not treat people like her akin to human garbage. She rather liked that too; it was a weight off her back as much as the reprieve from the Games had been.

Katniss, though, Rue loved Katniss. Rue was the oldest of six, but Katniss knew the importance of being the big sister better than anyone. She could very well have died saving little Primrose. However, she was one of the few people who might have been able to outfight the Careers. Those six still weren't getting along with the outer district folks like her, but everyone was much more pleasant once removed from their kill-or-be-killed situation. Rue's district partner Thresh had acted mean before but that was just an act to say he didn't want to be a part of the Games.

When the son of the District Eleven mayor walked around his father's domain, he said crude things to most of the poor girls, including her. However, Lord Stark's son was real nice. "I'm Brandon," he said. "But everyone calls me 'Bran'. I like climbing the walls and my lady mother likes telling me not to."_ His mother Catelyn is one of the few other people here with a normal name_, Rue thought.

"Mamas worry about their babies, that's the same anywhere," Rue observed. She was twelve, two-and-ten as these people called it. He was seven, one year younger than her twin sisters Apple and Peach. "I'm good at climbing trees," she added. _From working to pick fruit that was sent straight to the Capitol_, she thought to herself because Bran obviously wouldn't understand. "And so is my friend Katniss. Maybe we'd be good at climbing stone too."

"Maybe we would be, Little Flower," Katniss called from across the room. _She did have really good hearing, after all._

"I hope so, because I want to show you all the best towers," Bran added.

"Instead of these travelers from a foreign world, I was expecting guests I knew well," Lord Stark explained over one of the dinners.

"Of course you'd know Robert well; you've spent half your life fighting his wars," I heard Lady Stark mutter. _Husband and wife trading barbs, that ain't different with rich pale folks either._

"I look forward to feasting both. Gods know we'd have plenty of food," he explained. "Even when Robert is through with it," he japed.

The people here even rode horses instead of eating them. A large crowd, with more than ten times as many people as the group of tributes, soon came riding through. They looked like they were even richer than the Starks, or at least displayed it more. Rue hated that attitude, since it cruelly reminded her how poor she was, and the money spent on that fancy stuff could much better have been spent on basic things for poor folks. However, Rue got the feeling that if Lord Stark liked these visitors too, they couldn't be all bad.

This Robert was exceedingly fat, itself display of wealth in a way. When the native crowd bowed for the man, Rue and Thresh almost involuntarily tiptoed away from his white-armored guards. "I apologize, Your Grace," Lord Stark began to explain. "We recently received guests from a foreign land. 'Tis clear their local lords be cruel, and their soldiers also happen to wear white." _He had figured it out perfectly._

"Foreigners indeed," he said, looking at the group wearing odd clothes, some of those having an appearance that was certainly odd to them as well. "Prince Joffrey disappeared around the same time they appeared."

"As did my Robb," Eddard agreed. "But the details of it seem a matter for the maesters."

"The ever honorable Ned Stark. Now for something more than just bread and salt?" Robert said cheerfully.

"Ah, the ever mirthful Robert Baratheon. Welcome again to Winterfell," Ned finished.

Robert and Ned had some private business that brought a lull in the feasting for the rest. That was a good time for Rue and Katniss to go climbing with Bran like they had talked about. Regina and Nathan were some of the smarter people in their group, as appropriate for District Three. They were spending time with the wise man Luwin, beginning to exchange information about each others' worlds.

It was fun tiptoeing up walls to walk on top of them, but then Bran wanted to climb something else. "There are a few buildings here at Winterfell that aren't used any more," Bran explained before climbing down as Rue and Katniss followed. Rue heard noises coming from the tower Bran had started to climb up. "Miss Katniss, that tower's not empty," Rue whispered to her climbing partner.

Bran was pushed away from the window. Katniss was able to catch Bran, but they both were winded and moaned with soreness as they heard the woman return to screaming of a different sort.

"There are two people in there wrestling with their clothes off," Bran reported. Katniss was a stranger to romance, but still aware that more than athletics was going on in that chamber. "It's a man and a woman that look similar with their blonde hair and green eyes. Probably Ser Jaime and Queen Cersei."

"Even I don't love my sister _that_ much!" Katniss japed.

Obviously someone would want to know if their wife or husband was caught with someone else, especially if they be famous people like queens or kings. Yet why get married if you're going to do that? Rue's parents and the other adults she knew sure didn't have that problem. She supposed folks cling to love tighter when that's all they have, and she had heard that rich people sometimes get married for other reasons anyway.

"Do you know if Jaime has a wife?" Rue asked Bran.

"He does not. The kingsguard cannot have wives," Bran explained.

"Like our 'Peacekeepers'," Rue agreed, choking out the oh-so-inaccurate word.

So this was an issue between Jaime, Cersei and Robert. "Best announce it publicly. They tried to kill me to keep their secret; they wouldn't be able to silence everybody in the room." The three agreed, waiting for a good time at one of the public gatherings.

"We're not killing each other," Cato said of his fellow tributes. "So I'm itching to fight. Anybody care to duel?"

One young man stepped forward. Nearly as tall as Cato, they were both short compared to many of the other people here. "Theon Greyjoy. Let's see if any of you fancy foreigners are actually any good with steel in your hands."

One of the older Winterfell men stepped forward, apparently recognizing this issue as his concern. "Rodrik Cassel, my nephew Jory is the guardcaptain who found the foreigners, I'm master of arms here. I strongly suggest that such a duel be fought with practice swords, so the only injury is to the loser's pride."

"So be it," Lord Stark said, agreeing with his servant.

The other three-and-twenty tributes were all glad to be amongst the crowd watching the fight. Not being to the death, and their deaths in particular, it wasn't so bothersome. It was an unfamiliar sword, but Cato Adams still very much knew what to do with it, attacking Theon with several vicious strokes, quickly bringing him to yield. "You fought well," Cato offered.

"There's something more important I want to say...Bring Glimmer out here." She arose from the crowd and walked out to him on the field. He knelt down and said "Marry me." The woman was ecstatic at the words.

The king rose to speak. "In our land, to kneel in front of someone is a declaration of loyalty to them. I'd say that bodes well for your union."

Pearl, one of the outsider girls, added "In our land, we say 'may the odds be ever in your favor'."

The queen, once Pearl's interruption passed, spat back with "And what would you know about such fealty? Bastards. Bastards everywhere." Apparently, King Robert's whoring was hardly news to the natives, but they pretended to be shocked when Queen Cersei complained about it publicly.

Katniss recognized a good cue when she saw it. "What would you know about it either?!" she shouted. "You bed your brother!" Cersei's reaction seemed to betray her guilt.

"Well, it must be Jaime…women do not bed Tyrion unless he pays them," japed one of the King's attendants. "Kingslayer and kinlayer," he continued.


	6. Katniss II

Katniss had found a welcome in this strange land, as had most of the other Panem exiles. Well, most anything seemed welcome compared to embracing one's imminent deaths with the knowledge there was nothing anyone could do to help.

There were certain things Katniss would never understand about the Careers, even though the tribute pool was now getting along relatively well thanks to circumstances. Clove and Marvel were the only two who seemed at all frustrated. Perhaps they didn't want to be denied the sick glory of the Games. Glimmer and Cato were more interested in each other, and the District Four tributes generally didn't seem as bloodthirsty as their comrades from One and Two.

Pearl, that girl from Four, had another explanation of Ms. Hawkins' and Mr. Hoffman's behavior. "Even back in their district, Clove had always wanted Cato, only to be rebuffed at every turn. Maybe she even volunteered early for revenge."

"It's a long story, a string of long stories, but I've always feared the depths that love will drive someone to," Katniss admitted. "So I haven't come to understand such things, but even I can figure out that seeing him with Glimmer can only make things worse."

"Exactly, and I suspect something similar is going on in Marvel's thick skull," Pearl added.

They were interrupted by the approach of their hosts. Eddard Stark was a calm person; even his son's near death didn't send him into a rage, seething though he may be on the inside. Catelyn Tully was a different story. "The Mother is merciful!" she screamed to the foreign girls who were responsible for it not being an actual death. "But I want Ser Jaime's head!"

"I will pass the sentence if His Grace will let me swing the sword," Eddard said solemnly, but then again, he said everything solemnly.

King Robert was similarly unamused, if only for his friend's sake. Katniss and Rue were present at the sentencing for having prevented the death of the star witness, and so was Bran himself. "I would like to thank the young Brandon Stark for his honest testimony, and Lady Everdeen and Lady Clayton for enabling him to deliver it." One of his many servants presented all three of them with piles of gold. It was a nice gift for the Stark lordling, unimaginable wealth to the two girls who had grown up amongst Panem's poorest.

"We ate of Lord Stark's bread and salt…" Robert began.

"Some of us ate much more than that," Jaime interrupted.

Robert ignored that. "…and you attempted to murder his son, a grave crime even if it did not occur in violation of guest right."

"I generally don't push children out of windows for their health," Jaime admitted sarcastically.

The boisterous Baratheon seemed to enjoy going on the rant of sorts entailed in listing Ser Jaime Lannister's offenses. "It is treason for someone besides the king to bed the queen, for confusing the line of succession. It is oathbreaking for Kingsguard to father children at all. Do you deny any of it?"  
Jaime focused on what little remained of his dignity, calmly saying "No".

"I shall grant you the usual reprieve – if you wish to live, you join the Night's Watch, heading even further north and trading your white cloak for a black one." It was clear enough that this was a special military unit, with a different uniform color. "Cersei – the Silent Sisters shall become you." This was not just an order to shut up. He sensed Katniss' hesitation and added. "For the benefit of our esteemed guests, it is a holy order of women that processes the bodies of the dead."

"Consider yourselves lucky it's not my son they're coming for," Catelyn muttered.

"A new union is being built at the same time my marriage reaches its final disintegration. I hope your two fellow foreigners have better luck than I did," Robert finished.

The royal party left, except for Tyrion staying to travel with his brother Jaime one last time. The two were close, despite seemingly being as different as brothers could be. Jaime was tall and handsome, Tyrion exceedingly short and at best plain. Katniss saw a similarity and explained it to Tyrion. "I adore my younger sister, I'm even here because I risked my life to save hers, yet we can be as different as night and day. In short, she mostly looks like and acts like our mother, and me our father."

"Ah, Lord Stark's daughters seem to have similar differences in appearance and behavior," Tyrion seemed to realize. "Have you met Arya?"

"I have. She's quite impressed that a girl can be so good with bow and arrow. She's not so bad herself," Katniss answered.

Admittedly, Tyrion would rather talk to Cato, and Katniss overheard them as she waited for Arya to find her and head back to the archery targets. The four-and-twenty tributes were often staying close to one another anyway. "I fancy myself a connoisseur of fine wenches, and I must say, you got yourself a real good one," Tyrion started.

"When you look like me, you don't have to pay them," Cato shot back.

"'Tis true enough. At least I'm a rich dwarf," Tyrion admitted.

"But yes, she's something else. Not only is she the prettiest I've had in a long time, she's the only one I've ever wanted for more than a night," Cato added.

"I had a girl like that, but my father couldn't abide a son of the noble House Lannister marrying a mere commoner," Tyrion said, with both sadness and anger palpable. Katniss knew the feeling. _What she would like to say to her mother's m__other…_

"My mother would just be glad I'm settling down," Cato said cheerfully, more angrily uttering "And my father's dead."

"And my mother's dead," Tyrion countered, imitating Cato's tone. "Which is worse, to not know them or know them all too well?" Tyrion mused.

From Arya, Katniss gathered that Sansa thought differently, although not in the same ways Katniss was different from Prim. "Oh he's so brave and handsome!" Arya said sarcastically, parroting Sansa's thoughts on Glimmer's betrothal to Cato.

"Reckless, more like it," Katniss said, and the two girls laughed.

Apparently Sansa had long since talked too much about her far-future wedding and that had only gotten worse thanks to this near-future wedding.

Katniss had never thought about such things, having been concerned with more-important matters. Prim simply wasn't old enough. However, Katniss could see herself growing quite fond of the sweet boy who had traveled to the Capitol and then to here with her. Years of being afraid to confess his feelings was in the past now that he had. Besides, the four-and-twenty tributes were growing closer together as an island of familiarity in this strange world, and anything she could have had with Gale was obviously gone now.

Prim was actually slightly older than Sansa, although the children here seemed to act older than their ages indicated. Katniss was honestly curious as to what else crossed Sansa's mind; the young lady hardly seemed stupid. Maybe wealth made it easy to retreat to such petty concerns, as she had also seen with residents of Panem's Capitol. That was sad; it was a horror how the minds of the poor were wasted - left starving, hysterical, naked.

Weddings here also entailed going to a special building to say words before an official. "The Faith Of The Seven," Lady Stark began to explain while showing the group to that part of the castle. Looking at the little building, Katniss saw that there was seven of everything – walls, statues inside, arrows on the symbol, and so on. "The New Gods, not so new any more."

"Faith? Gods?" Even the smartest person in the group, Nathan of District Three, was confused, let alone the rest of the tributes.

It was obvious to Lady Stark, but she nevertheless politely explained "Rules for living this life, associated with beings beyond it."

Katniss was amazed that such an important aspect of life was not entirely controlled by the government, however involved it may be. Government would worry about something not under its control, and something besides its own propaganda commanding the people's attention. However, the rules of these faiths and gods could be what the government wanted. _Oh, what Gale the rebel would make of this!_

At any rate, Lord Stark had other ideas. He valued a sacred forest – the thought of trees caught Katniss' attention and she hoped her fellow tributes would take this route. "Those are the old ways," Catelyn said, some exasperation coming through her politeness. Well, those old ways sounded simpler – just saying some words while bowed to the heart of the grove. That simplicity seemed to allow less control of the kind she was worried about when doing things the other way.

Catelyn's wedding gift was the wedding dress itself and other finery for Glimmer. Women's formalwear was relatively similar here, the kinds of gowns that Katniss detested just as much in the different environment. One of Catelyn's servants presented an imposing creation of wavy red and blue fabric. "A _stark_ difference from a plain white dress," Glimmer japed.

"Actually, they're the colors of my birth family, Tully, though rather prettier than grey and white, I'd agree," Catelyn answered good-naturedly.

"Will you wear your own wedding gown again as the host?" Glimmer asked.

"I can't; it's torn. Credit Jory Cassel for that." Then she hesitated. "We have a custom called the bedding where the men at the wedding strip the bride and carry her to bed while the women do the same with the groom. I admit it's nerve-wracking enough even if you're used to it; we'd certainly understand if you foreigners want no part of it."

"I like the idea of showing off what I got," Cato answered.

"As do I," his bride-to-be agreed.

The men's heavy robes and cloaks were different from the light crisp shirts the tributes were used to. Yet nothing could beat the fabric of the tribute uniforms for normal occasions. Mackenzie and Samuel from the textile factories in District Eight took a certain pride in this. "Did you make these?" Catelyn wondered of Mackenzie.

"Don't rightly know, m'lady, I just worked on the plain fabric rather than shaping it," she explained.

"Needlework is a common practice for highborn women such as myself, maybe I would have ended up as seamstresses had I been born a commoner, Catelyn answered, politely although furtively searching for common ground.

"Their bows are something else too," Arya added, having learned that at the targets with Katniss.

"The shooter is something else," Peeta chimed in. "Katniss is as beautiful at archery as she is in general," smiling with an air of self-satisfaction. Her archery abilities were well-known, although she was pleased at how well Peeta had taken notice. The second part of the comment was unfamiliar, but she liked that more than she thought she would.

Rodrik Cassel was impatient to get to his matter of expertise. "Mr. Mellark here is ever the gentleman, and Lady Everdeen is incredibly accurate. However, when she tries to shoot some of our bows, the power and range isn't as significant."

"That sword of yours was heavy, sir," Cato announced as soon as Rodrik finished his report on bows.

"It was a regular sword, simply not given an edge," Rodrik answered.

"Pick this up and see what I mean," Cato explained, presenting his own sword form the arena.

Rodrik was amazed at the light weight for the kind of edge it held. "As good as Valyrian steel, which is a rare heirloom here. Whole wars fought with weapons like this?"

"We're actually given old weapons for …" Cato hesitated. "…our melee tournaments, as it were. I can't even begin to explain what our soldiers use." That was one of many surprises for Panem and Westeros folk alike.

Glimmer and Cato had chosen the woods, and it was time to lead them there. They were escorted primarily by their fellow Panem exiles. "It is an odd wedding procession, so many too young to be married themselves," Catelyn announced. However, it took a Stark in Lord Eddard himself to show them the way through the forest's so-called paths.

Katniss was one of many tributes marching with their weapons, and she couldn't resist shooting at a deer that appeared in the edge of her vision. "Take it to Gage and have him add it to the wedding feast," the lord decreed. Some servants came along to haul it to the kitchens. _This kind of hunting I can definitely get used to_, Katniss thought.

"Who comes? Who comes before the old gods of the forest?" 'Ned' recited.

"I, Glimmer Shinesmith, a woman grown…" _She was seven-and-ten, an older girl by the definitions of Panem, but here adulthood was defined at six-and-ten instead of eight-and-ten._ "…trueborn…" _Her parents _were_ married, although that was of much less concern in Panem._ "I come to beg the blessings of these gods of yours. Who comes with me?"

The groom's part of the formula was simpler. "Me. Cato Adams."

"Lady Shinesmith, do you take this man?" the lord continued in his capacity as chief witness.

"I take this man," she shouted. The couple knelt together and recited what they were told to whisper; even Katniss didn't pick up the words.

They rose, and when Cato went to kiss his beloved, Peeta did the same. It turns out that Katniss rather liked the feeling of a boy's lips on hers and pulled Peeta close, running her hands through his hair. "Seems someone is making up for lost time on romantic indecisiveness!" Katniss happily observed as the group walked away from the woods to the feast hall.

"Oh, I was very decisive. I just found myself unable to act on that decision for some reason or another. I made up my mind with you years ago. Maybe not at five – since we were so young, I didn't think as much of it as I do now. But definitely when I threw you the bread when we were one-and-ten."

The unfamiliar form of 'eleven' rolled easily off his tongue. _Words seemed to come easy to him_, Katniss thought. _Which made his previous silence with me seem all the more odd._

Katniss had venison before the few times she had gotten so lucky in the woods back home. Cato had always been quite well-fed, but on other things. "It's very strong, that's for sure. Almost overpowering by itself, but quite pleasant in the stew," he said. _Fair enough._

Tyrion and Logroll, the 'woman grown' from District Seven, were both full of wine with their hands roaming all over each other. "You're so clever and funny!" she observed. _Well, it's only fair that he have _something_ attractive about him._

"That royal jester was wrong. Here's at least one woman who will bed the ol' Imp without being paid," he japed. "I am the god of tits and wine!" he added, one hand on each.

"Bed the newlyweds first!" someone shouted.

"Fine by me!" Marvel added, no stranger to fermented grape juice today either. "Let's see what you're getting, Cato, you lucky bastard!" Somehow the dress was removed from Glimmer in one piece. Katniss could not blame Peeta for paying very close attention – however beautiful he insisted she was, Katniss saw that Glimmer was the clear stunner of the group. Looking at Cato, she thought _That's supposed to go where?!_ and her own legs experienced shaking of a different kind.

When the newlyweds were carefully carried into their bedroom, most of the wedding party stayed right by the chambers as Logroll and Tyrion were scouting out one for themselves. The crowd continued shouting rude japes Katniss couldn't even begin to understand.

"I know how to fuck," an annoyed Cato shouted back through the door.

"He sure _ooh yes_ does!" his bride confirmed. "It's like our bodies are made for each other!" she shouted semi-coherently.

The next morning, Ned suggested another adventure. "The king came here to offer me a post as his chief advisor in our capital. Do our foreign guests care to see that city and the parts of the country on the way?" All four-and-twenty seemed interested. "Well, Hodor will show you to the stables."

"Hodor," the large man replied.

"It'll still take some getting used to horses as transportation," Regina Gates, the District Three girl, admitted. "Where we're from, people get around other ways, although there's still a certain appeal to the horse. Many a girl wanted a pony."

"Yeah, so I could have butchered it," Katniss japed. "I rather like no more starving now."


	7. Eddard I

The revelation of Jaime and Cersei's adulterous incest was Eddard Stark's first crisis as Hand Of The King, top royal adviser to his old friend Robert Baratheon.

Ned led his daughters, seven-and-ten of his staff and guards and all of the foreign visitors towards King's Landing. More of his servants and soldiers may yet follow, but the rest of his family was to remain at home – there must always be a Stark in Winterfell, though now it was Bran instead of Robb. Jory Cassel was leading some guards south, but Rodrik Cassel was leading some other soldiers further north, taking Jaime Lannister to the Wall five-and-ten years too late.

His steward Vayon Poole would manage the household in King's Landing as he had in Winterfell. His departure was one of many issues those remaining in Winterfell needed to be mindful of, and his daughter Jeyne was part of a departure of a different sort.

Right now, he was haggling with a innkeeper. "Party of Lord Eddard Stark, recently appointed Hand Of The King," Vayon said.

"Ah, His Grace means money," the innkeeper said gleefully. "I sold him a room for an hour once."

"I care not of bastard gossip. I do care about stable space, two-and-forty single rooms, and one married couple."

"I figure they married for love and very recently," the innkeeper gleefully guessed.

"You have the right of that," Vayon agreed, as Cato used the arm hooked around Glimmer's waist to lift her up and make them the first two to head up the stairs.

King Robert had left a few days earlier, but Ned's group rode faster than the king's ponderous party, even with the foreign visitors just learning to ride.

King and adviser, friend and friend, began some discussions that had to take place in person. It was hard if not impossible to send messenger ravens when both sides of the conversation were on the move. Robert was illiterate, and Ned was one of the few men he trusted enough to handle such important messages on his behalf. One of the few others was Jon Arryn, and he had died recently, requiring Robert to replace him as Hand.

This was incredibly odd to the foreign visitors; even the poorest of them were taught to read and write. It would reduce dependence on maesters or whatever their educated men were, especially for everyday tasks. People could read work-related instructions, or advice on consumer goods. From what Ned had gathered of their local lords, the rulers would have the smallfolk read lots of government propaganda. Yet nevertheless, only the especially stupid were illiterates there, and Ned knew several reasonably intelligent illiterates, Robert included.

Robert spoke first. "Tyrion has taken it upon himself to advocate for his relatives. He's the reason I didn't have you send your sword through the Kinlayer's neck. But as for his 'sweet sister', he said 'fuck her because she wouldn't fuck me too'."

"Those Lannisters do have their wits about them even in dire situations," Ned admitted.

"Hell, she barely fucked me either. The way she guarded her cunt, it was as if she had half the gold of Casterly Rock between her legs." Ned was numb to Robert's rude japing by now.

The sudden delegitimization of Cersei's children was a primary consequence of the scandal, in a place where the law of the land took things quite seriously. "I thought Tommen was my heir in Joffrey's absence, but neither are my sons and Myrcella is not my daughter. I finally realized the obvious, that my supposed children look nothing like me," Robert admitted. "I shall legitimize the younger ones. That was another issue on which Tyrion's counsel seemed to prevail with me. Have you any to offer to the contrary?"

"I do not, Your Grace," Ned said. "It seems like it would help keep peace with House Lannister, especially once Tyrion succeeds his father to Casterly Rock."

"Tyrion also quoted Jaehaerys II, the esteemed predecessor to my not-so-esteemed predecessor."

"'Madness and greatness were two sides of the same coin and every time a new Targaryen was born, the gods would toss the coin in the air and the world would hold its breath to see how it would land'," Eddard recited, correctly guessing the quote.

"The Imp also said that Tommen and Myrcella were good decent children, that Jaime and Cersei beat the odds," Robert continued.

"I suppose Jaehaerys' words apply to Lannister siblings as well as Targaryen ones," Ned agreed.

"Weren't Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna first-degree cousins?" Ned wondered.

"They were," Robert recalled. "And they were happy together, as you and Lady Catelyn still are. Tell me, what's it like to have your lady wife love you more than her brother?" he added bitterly.

"We've built a loving relationship, aye," Ned sort of answered.

"I suppose it helps when you have one bastard instead of too many to count," Robert admitted.

Ned actually didn't have any bastards at all, but he mouthed a simple agreement. Robert was the last person Ned would admit the truth of the matter to. Robert was the reason for that lie in the first place. His bastard son Jon was actually his trueborn nephew, of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.

Lyanna died in childbed bringing Jon forth. Her last words, whispered feverishly while lying in a bed of a blood, were "Promise me, Ned". To protect the babe. Ned Stark was nothing if not a man of his word, and it was a cruel irony that the only way to live up that was to impugn his honor with his wife.

Murder of babes though it was, Robert felt the need to have other claimants to his throne killed, such as this grandson of Aerys. Rhaegar's other two children, by his first wife Elia Martell, had been butchered by the Lannisters in the immediate aftermath of the war. If Jon was thought to be Ned's son, he could be hidden in plain sight.

Selecting Jaime's replacement in the current Kingsguard was a matter of prime importance. Jaime had remained in King's Landing with Aerys II during the war. Three of the Kingsguard fought the rebels in open battle; two died and the survivor went on to serve the new king. The other three had been with Lyanna because she was carrying Rhaegar's child. Ned and six of his companions fought through them to get to Lyanna, unfortunately not in time. Only Howland Reed survived that battle along with Ned. Ned was confident that Lord Reed was the only other person to know or suspect the truth of Jon's parentage. Cersei's children looked like Lannisters instead of Baratheons. However, Jon had the Stark look, which helped keep Ned's secret. People found it somewhat believable that even Ned slipped on his honor just once, some japing about how tempting the wench must have been, but it was actually one of the most difficult things he'd done to maintain his honor.

Robert had loved Lyanna too, only to see her run off with Rhaegar. Out of jealousy, Robert slandered Rhaegar as a kidnapper, rapist and other such things. Rhaegar had been nothing of the sort, and Ned's own honor hated to see another man's virtue unfairly questioned. The crown prince they'd defeated had been a great man despite his father's madness.

The Night's Watch had sent a raven about Jon's disappearance, as well as that of his fellow steward Samwell Tarly. Well, Jon was definitely safe in the foreign land where he resided now. The foreign visitors said that bastardy was no great concern where they came from, and their cruel ruler was a Snow. Jon would be glad to call himself a Stark; he practically was one anyway.

Rhaegar's siblings had escaped to Essos and managed to avoid royal agents all this time. Ned realized that Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys could become a threat to the realm. Viserys would be two-and-twenty now, Daenerys four-and-ten.

Thinking of Daenerys' age reminded Ned that all of the Westerosi who had disappeared were two-and-ten at the youngest, eight-and-ten at the oldest, the same range of ages as the foreign visitors. Why, one of them had just celebrated her sixteenth nameday – Marissa, the small lady with a 5 on her shirt. That was always a milestone, but much more so when it came instead of death. Only one of the four-and-twenty would have lived otherwise.

The heir to the throne was now Robert's brother Stannis instead of one of Robert's supposed sons. "That's the kind of thing a man should hear in person," Ned pointed out. "After all, you went to great lengths to offer me the Handship to my face."

"So we head for Dragonstone after King's Landing," King Robert said glumly, obviously worn down by the travel, less obviously worn down by heavy news.

"And the heir to Stannis' throne would be your youngest brother Renly, not Stannis' daughter Shireen," Ned pointed out. "Most inheritances would go to a daughter before a brother, but the laws for the Iron Throne are _especially_ strict on sticking to the male line."

"I somehow doubt Renly will have heirs," Robert said, laughing to himself.

"That it would go to Shireen, I believe, so she ought be prepared for the responsibility as well," Ned suggested.

**A/N**

I made several small additions throughout Chapters 5 and 6, especially Katniss reflecting on Peeta after he steals a kiss.


End file.
